


Warmth

by Kuukkeli



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, MTMTE, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli





	

It had started with innocent touches and caressing. They had been watching the TV when Drift had felt Ratchet’s hand on his thigh. Thinking nothing of it, he had ignored the hand and continued watching the show.

That was until the medic’s hand came close to his crotch, his fingers brushing against the smooth panel. That’s when things had gotten interesting.

Tickling brushes, firm gropes... The mixture of both kind of touches had the swordsmech revved up in no time and heat crept on his face when his panel snapped back, revealing his moist valve. Embarrassment seeped into his field and he apologized, trying to press his thighs together but the older mech had other ideas.

He pushed the thighs apart gently and cupped Drift’s cheek with his other hand to look him in the optics, “Don’t hide yourself.”

And so, Ratchet ran his hand down to the younger mech’s knee before ascending back up along the inner side of the dark thigh. This time, he aimed for the anterior node and pressed his fingertips against it, evoking a louder gasp from his speedster. Drift shifted on his spot on the couch, spreading his legs for Ratchet.

“Hmm, that’s a good boy”, Ratchet purred and moved closer.

He hooked his arm under the smaller mech’s thigh, hiking the luscious thigh up for better access and leant in to murmur in his audio, “Hands where I can see them.”

A smile appeared on the red and white mech’s lips as he saw Drift place his hands on his own belly.

Continuing with the gentle touches, Ratchet listened to the soft moans and pleas that escaped Drift’s lips, drinking them up like the sweetest nectar, purring as the pleasure travelled down to his stirring spike. He moved his fingers further down to play with the entrance, gathering the lubricants that already had leaked out. Dipping the first fingertip in, he merely teased his beloved one.

Soon, he added another finger and pushed them gently and slowly in, savoring the drawn-out sigh and the way the mesh walls clutched around his fingers. He brought his thumb to the glowing anterior node and rubbed it in slow circles, rolling it under his thumb.

The swordsmech squirmed and Ratchet wrapped his other arm around Drift’s waist to keep him in place, “You’re not going anywhere”, he growled softly and squeezed him briefly to get the message through.

Drift’s finials slanted down and he nodded, his field projecting waves of _won’t move/feels so good/submissive_ , a smile appearing on his lips as he rested his head on Ratchet’s shoulder. The older mech leant in to kiss him, their tongues sliding against each other, hungry and demanding.

Any sound that the white mech might’ve uttered, Ratchet swallowed them by kissing him back, his fingers thrusting in and out of that now wet valve. Drift spread his legs a bit further apart, whimpering into the kiss, his field pulsing with _please give me more/please/please/pleasepleaseplease_.

Ratchet gave him more by adding a third finger and picking up the speed. The wet noises were loud in the habsuite but so were the roars of their fans. The medic pulled his wet fingers out to run his whole palm over the valve, the node catching on any ridge and seam it could.

The younger mech squirmed some more but couldn’t move away as he was trapped in Ratchet’s safe embrace so all he could do was take whatever Ratchet decided to do to him and go along for the ride. And to be completely honest, he wouldn’t have wanted to move. He wanted to be right where he was, dominated by his Conjux.

Finally, the older mech moved so that he was sitting between the smaller mech and the couch, Drift’s back against his chest. He opened his panel and his erect spike emerged from its hiding place. The upper side of the spike rubbed against the speedster’s valve and he ran his hand down the underside, fingertips brushing the ridges on the way down and back up.

A groan slipped from the medic’s vocalizer and he griped Drift’s thighs gently, “Ready for the ride?” he asked, a smirk on his lips.

Drift turned his head to kiss the larger mech and chuckled back, “You have no idea.”

With that being said, Ratchet helped Drift up until his valve was right above the spike, the entrance barely touching the tip. Ever so slowly, the red and white mech started lowering Drift down onto his spike.

The younger mech moaned at the intrusion, the stretch, the feeling of having Ratchet inside him; hot and pulsating. They fit perfectly together – as if they were made for each other. He started riding slowly, enjoying the drag and pull of the thick spike against the walls of his valve.

But soon that wasn’t enough for the red and white mech and he grabbed Drift from near his aft and lifted him up until only the tip of his spike remained in and pushed him back down, a loud moan filling the habsuite. He started bouncing Drift on his lap – which was no problem with his medic strength – and moaned at the litany of yesyesyesyESYESYESYES coming from the other mech.

All of a sudden, the older mech moved them again and Drift found himself on the couch, his chest pressed against it and aft hiked up. And the next thing he knew, was Ratchet thrusting into him; fast and deep in, slowly out.

Drift arched his back to get the other mech hit the nodes deep inside him and moaned when Ratchet did it.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again, until the white mech was begging for an overload, pushing back to meet Ratchet’s thrusts. And who was Ratchet to deny his pretty speedster his overload?

He reached his right hand around Drift’s hip and started fondling with the throbbing node and smiled at the instant reaction; the white mech moaned and spread his legs even further apart, arching his back. The larger mech leant over Drift and placed his other hand next to his head to loom over him.

The rumbly ‘good boy’s and other praises made Drift’s arousal go sky-high and the knot in the pit of his belly grew tighter until it snapped open. He wailed his medic’s name as he rode his bliss, unaware of Ratchet coming along with him and spilling deep inside him.

The medic nearly collapsed on top of his speedster but caught himself on his arms before he did so. They panted and waited together for the afterglow to kick in and when it did, the older mech carefully lowered himself to lay on top of Drift, both of them purring and smiling.

Ratchet scattered soft kisses along the smaller mech’s finial and caressed the black hands before entwining their fingers together, the larger mech’s spike still inside Drift. Drift didn’t mind at all. He enjoyed the shared warmth that surrounded him both inside and outside. And apparently Ratchet enjoyed it, too, if the deep, satisfied purr and the way his field was enmeshed with the white mech’s was anything to go by.

Neither bothered getting up and interrupting the serene post-coital atmosphere but that just fine for both. If something they loved more than making love to each other, it was basking in the afterglow, cuddling and sharing lazy kisses.


End file.
